


to find a home

by peachsneakers



Series: flufftober [18]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abused Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Human, American Sign Language, Angst, Anxiety, But world building! Jazz hands, Fluff, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Logan's not in this one, Parents Dr. Emile Picani and Sleep | Remy Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, remile - Freeform, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27795091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Virgil doesn't have good parents. Virgil gets taken away.Virgil doesn't know what he's in for.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Series: flufftober [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969483
Comments: 12
Kudos: 173





	to find a home

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: things left unsaid
> 
> i'm not very nice to virgil, am i
> 
> i _think_ this is the most angst the series will have though, so there is that :p

Sometimes Virgil _wants_.

He knows he's not supposed to. His parents tell him that he has everything he should ever want. He has a roof over his head and food in his stomach (most of the time... when he hasn't done anything wrong, that is). He has clothes to wear and a few toys to play with. He goes to school and he even gets invited to neighborhood events. Like Roman's and Remus's birthday party. But they hardly talked to him the whole time and truthfully, he didn't _want_ them to, because Virgil has a secret.

Virgil can't talk.

Well, that's not entirely true. Sometimes he can, but most of the time, it feels like his throat dries up and his lips slam shut and no matter how much he internally begs and pleads with himself to just let the floodgates open and let the words come out, they just...don't. It's like there's a drawbridge behind his teeth and he can't lower it, no matter how much he wants to.

His parents don't understand. They think he's quiet on purpose. That he's just being defiant. He doesn't know how to explain that he's _not_. 

His teacher doesn't understand either, but at least she doesn't think he's just a bad child. At least she doesn't think that he's just being defiant. She lets him write stuff down and even teaches him a few signs in ASL. He can finger spell the whole alphabet now, say what his name is, and ask to go to the restroom. He thinks that's a pretty good start, and so does his teacher. She smiles at him and tells him that he's a good boy. Sometimes she even puts gold stickers on the top of his paper, and he saves every single one, hiding it in the bottom of his dresser drawer, where no one can see. His parents search his room sometimes, but they don't look there, and he's glad because he doesn't think they would understand.

He _knows_ they won't understand.

But then everything goes wrong.

He doesn't mean to fuss with his shirt sleeves, especially not in class. He really doesn't. But he does anyway, and his shirt sleeve rides up, just at the wrong time, and his teacher sees the bruises there, and the bruises are shaped like fingerprints.

All of this is to say that Virgil messed up and now he's going to be in foster care, because a judge said his parents are unfit, and he doesn't _want_ to be in foster care, he _knows_ what a burden he is, and isn't it bad enough to inflict that on his parents, never mind total strangers.

But the worst thing is, his new foster parents have a kid already. And he _knows_ that kid. Janus is in the other class, but he still sees him at recess, he sees him _all the time_ , and now he's going to be living there?

Virgil can't think of a worst possible scenario because this _is_ the worst possible scenario.

"It's nice to meet you, Virgil," Emile says warmly. Janus has two dads, and Virgil didn't know that was a thing before today. "I'm sorry about the circumstances."

"It's okay," he finally manages to push through his teeth and past his tongue. He doesn't have high hopes for that staying very long. His anxiety is at an all time high, and what's worse is that he can _see_ Janus, see him peeking round the bannister, his eyes wide. He doesn't think he has a hope in heck that Janus doesn't recognize him. Sure enough-

"Virgil?" Janus asks. Virgil hunches in on himself, wishing that he could take out his stuffed bat, and nods. Emile looks between the two of them.

"Oh, that's right," Emile says, thunking his forehead with one palm. "You go to the same school, don't you?" Virgil nods.

"Not the same class," Janus offers. "But I see him at recess and stuff."

"Well, I hope I don't need to tell you this, Janus, but-"

"I know, I know," Janus says, interrupting and rolling his eyes. Virgil watches, his mouth agape, body half-poised to take off if Emile shows the slightest hint of anger at the interruption.

Nothing.

"What do you know?" Emile asks. His tone is almost...playful?

"I wouldn't make fun of him," Janus promises. "That'd be... that'd be really bad. And um." He scrunches his nose, sounding out the next word. "Hypocritical?"

"Good job," Emile praises. Janus turns back to Virgil.

"I'm uh, adopted," Janus admits. "So..." He gestures at himself. "I at least kinda get it."

"You are?" Virgil asks, blinking owlishly in surprise. Janus nods.

"Since I was a toddler," Janus says. "My parents were neglecting. Is that the right word?" He asks, looking up at Emile.

"I think you mean neglectful," Emile says. "But yes, that's correct, Janus."

"Oh," Virgil says. The CPS workers had thrown that word around, too. He didn't really understand what it meant. They still fed and clothed him, didn't they? They still let him have his own room, just off the kitchen. It was small, but it was still his. Neglect meant that you didn't get all of those things. Didn't it?

"I'll show you to your room, Virgil," Emile says, picking up Virgil's suitcase. It doesn't hold that much. His stuffed bat is in his backpack, along with his school supplies, but all of his clothes are in the suitcase, along with all the gold stickered papers he could find, and his toiletries. A few extra toys. He didn't have that much. The CPS worker had looked very sad at that. He didn't get why. He didn't _need_ that much. He was still small. Short stuffs don't need stuff. That's what his parents had said.

Virgil's room is next to the bathroom and across from Janus's. It's enormous compared to his old room, and his mouth falls open in surprise as Emile opens the door and turns on the light. There has to be some mistake, he thinks. Maybe Janus has two rooms. This- this _can't_ be his. It has a soft white carpet and pale purple walls. A canopied bed sits under the window, and there's a dresser against one wall. A toy chest sits against the opposite wall, and a rocking chair fits snugly in a corner. There are fairy lights strewn around the walls, on top of the window, and they sparkle, even in the daylight.

"If you'd like to change anything, just talk to me or Remy, okay?" Emile says, setting his suitcase down. Virgil nods on autopilot, but he knows that he won't ask for anything else. This is already far more than he could have dreamed.

"Janus helped me pick out some toys for you," Emile mentions, motioning his head toward the toy chest. "I hope you like them."

Virgil opens his mouth to speak, to say thank you, but discovers to his dismay, his voice has locked up again. Instead he signs thank you, hoping against hope that Emile knows sign language.

"You're welcome," Emile says warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Virgil's eyes go wide. He knows sign language?

"I know the basics," Emile says, answering his unspoken question. "Remy's the one who's really good at it, though. He teaches me and Janus. Would you like to join those sessions?" Eagerly, forgetting himself, Virgil nods. A way to communicate that _doesn't_ involve speaking? Sign him up!

Then his anxiety returns, like a thunderclap, and he shrinks back into himself, missing the light frown that crosses Emile's face when he sees how badly Virgil is trying to disappear.

"Remy will be home later," Emile says. "He wanted to be home to meet you with me, but his boss decided otherwise." Emile sighs. "I'm sorry." Virgil makes the a-ok sign, and Emile smiles at him.

"Why don't you get settled in, Virgil?" He says. "Janus can help, if you want."

"I don't mind," Janus says at once. "Is that okay?"

Hesitantly, Virgil nods.

Maybe this won't be so bad, after all.


End file.
